Chuck and Sarah vs the Hello
by LetsGoRed
Summary: Only a few hours ago on the beach Sarah was asking Chuck to kiss her. He did and she felt everything ...and remembered nothing. With Sarah's emotions returned but not her memories, what's next for Chuck and Sarah as they try to overcome what Quinn did to her? This story follows after the events of WillieGarvin's short story "Sarah vs The Kiss." (Charah; canon faithful)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story picks up a few hours after the closing moment of the series finale. In between, the events of WillieGarvin's short story "Sarah vs The Kiss" occurred (and are recalled in my story). I am very grateful to WillieGarvin who gave me his blessing to launch this story from his. If you have not read "Sarah vs The Kiss" you absolutely should. Right now. It should enhance your understanding of where this story starts. More importantly, you should read it because it is wonderfully written and delivers oodles of warmth. That's right, oodles. It's a very quick read (less than 1k words long). I've read it a few times; it's practically therapeutic.

Reviews of the chapters/story and PMs to discuss "Chuck" are welcome and strongly encouraged! Hearing from readers is the highlight of writing fan fiction for me.

I don't own "Chuck" and I make no money from this.

xXXXx

Chuck woke up. More accurately, he opened his eyes; he had never really fallen asleep. How could he? Only hours ago all had seemed lost; Sarah seemed lost. The words were synonymous, "all" and "Sarah," because he was not sure if he could have gone on for very long without her. What losing her for good might have meant for him, where it would have led, scared him. His fall would not have bottomed out on the sofa, in a bathrobe, inhaling cheese puffs. No, his fall would have been deeper, absolute. But he found her at their spot on their beach and she asked him to tell her their story.

Then she asked him to kiss her. Morgan's magical kiss. For a moment after their lips parted there was nothing, it hadn't worked -and the despair that had stalked him from the moment her train car was separated from his coiled itself to pounce, to drag him over the edge and into its pit. And then another moment and someway, somehow the kiss had worked! Or at least it had to a degree: her feelings for him, if not her memories of him, returned. She told him she loved him. She said it. She repeated it. To Chuck it had felt like he was able to finally take a full breath of air, the tightness that had gripped his chest and heart for the last few weeks had been released. The second kiss that followed, oh boy! Magic or no, Chuck would never forget it.

From there much of what happened was a blur. He drove them back to Echo Park. In the car, Sarah described the memory she had glimpsed, and Chuck remembered asking her if she had suffered from any migraines, or if she had flashed in the time following Quinn abducting her. There had been no headaches, no flashes, nothing that suggested to her that she had the Intersect. For the remainder of the trip, the two barely said a word. Just a lot of smiles exchanged when he dared take his eyes off the road to make sure Sarah was really there, that she still wanted to be there. It was late when they arrived and quietly made their way into their apartment, then into their bed.

Now he lay in bed gazing at Sarah, who was deep asleep. He thought she must be exhausted. (His ego chiming in at that moment, "Oh, I bet she is, lover boy." Chuck quickly whisked that juvenile thought away.) What had happened in their bed, well, it was... marvelous. It might also have been foolishly impulsive. There was so much to sort out. Chuck had tried to rein things in, to demure at Sarah's obvious intentions, but Sarah had been so insistent. There were many things these last few years with Sarah had proven to Chuck; one was that Chuck was powerless when Sarah deployed her full wiles on him.

Yet as marvelous as that had been, at this moment he found himself thinking only about the first kiss back on the beach. What if he hadn't told Sarah of Morgan's kiss theory? Would they have kissed anyways? Maybe not. Hell, if not for Morgan, would Chuck have stopped overthinking his dilemma and let his heart point the way to Sarah at the beach? Almost certainly not. Morgan. That lovable bearded goof was a savant when it came to Chuck and Sarah.

The urge to see his best friend, to speak with him and tell him what happened, hit Chuck sharply. He stole one more glance at Sarah (_God, she's so lovely_, he thought) and seeing her still sound asleep, slipped from their bed and into a t-shirt, a pair of jeans and Chucks.

A few moments later Chuck was through the courtyard and rapping at Morgan and Casey's door. "Morgan, I'm back." Conscious of the time, his voice started as a stage whisper but grew, as did the force of his knocks. "Buddy, I know it's really late, or really early. Whatever. But I'm back. I found Sarah." The door swung open, revealing a shirtless Morgan with an Empire Strikes Back towel wrapped around his waist. Chuck let out a small sigh, grateful that a sleeping-in-the-buff Morgan had had enough wits to grab something to wear.

"Chuck!" Morgan said, surprisingly alert. "You found her?"

"Yeah."

"What happened? You kiss her?"

"Yeah."

"Did she remember?"

"Yeah, well…"

"Dude, I knew it! That Walt Disney is a frickin' genius."

"He is, but it wasn't exactly as we might have hoped. All of her emotions, her feelings about me are back, but her memories of the last five years, of me, you, everyone and everything since arriving in Burbank, are not. But a few memories have surfaced, at least bits or impressions of them. I think her memories are there, at least some of them, blocked rather than erased."

"Dude, that's great! If she remembers that she is head over heels for you, you kids will figure this all out, I'm sure of it."

"I hope so," Chuck said, anxiety creeping into his voice.

"And are you sure she didn't get the memories back and just doesn't trust them, that she doesn't believe them?"

"What do you mean?"

"Chuck, when you think about it, the whole life you two have had, come on. The Intersect. The adventure. Kickass hot blonde spy falls in love with computer nerd. It's like you two are in a movie or something. Or you should be."

_In a movie?_ Chuck for a moment had no response for that.

"No," Chuck finally said, "She doesn't remember, or at least she mostly doesn't remember. When we kissed nothing seemed to happen at first, but she says a memory, of her and me dressed up and me dipping her, came to her, and then all at once seemingly every emotion, every feeling, for the past five years flooded back. She remembered our wedding, or at least I think she did. When a memory arrives it seems to lurk just at the edge of her grasp so she only gets an impression of it. It happened too when we pursued Quinn to the Weinerlicious; Sarah started arranging stacks of cups on the counter."

"Like from her days working there?"

"Yeah! When I pointed out what she was doing, she was disoriented and uncertain about it."

"Wait, you said your wedding?" Morgan asked, "Did she remember me officiating?" Chuck attempted to humor Morgan, "Uh, yeah, I'm sure."

Morgan smiled and the pace of his words quickened. "Ok, so, Sarah only has a couple bits and pieces of her old memories back, and she can't remember why she has the hots for you, _but_ _she knows_ she has the hots for you. Bro, It's gotta be that damn Intersect crossing up her wires." Morgan's eyebrows pinched as he momentarily mulled over a thought. "Ellie's got the suppression program from Beckman." Slapping the back of one hand in the palm of the other, the corner of Morgan's mouth rose as he then pointed at Chuck. "All you have to do is MacGyver the hardware together like you did on the train, plop Sarah down in front of it and, lickety-split, Sarah has her memories back, right?"

"I don't have to build it. The General left the suppression device with me in case I wanted to use it on myself."

"That's great! So what are you waiting for? Have Sarah put it on."

Doubt was etched on Chuck's face. "I'm not sure about that. Getting the Intersect out of your head didn't bring your lost memories back. Anyways, she says she hasn't had a flash or a headache since Quinn took her. I don't think she has the Intersect anymore. She doesn't feel it, that sense of power the Intersect gives you. Quinn must have done something to her, to it."

Morgan tried to buoy his best friend. "Still, maybe it'll work."

"Don't get me wrong, buddy. Sarah and I will talk to Ellie today and see what she thinks we should do, but… I'm not optimistic about suppression being the answer."

A wordless moment passed between them. Chuck asked, "Is Casey here? Maybe I should see what he thinks."

"Oh, I didn't tell you earlier. He's gone. He came back here, but then took off. He's going to try to find Gertrude."

"Good for him."

"Alex is here, though. Me and Alex, we're moving in together."

"Good for you, buddy!"

"Yeah, we're excited. Casey gave me the apartment, but I think Alex and I need to find our own place, one that's right for us."

Chuck blinked a couple times, momentarily lost in thought. "'Our own place… that's right for us.' Morgan! I need to get the house!"

Morgan looked at Chuck skeptically. "The house? You mean the house where you took Sarah after kidnapping her while she was unconscious, where she tried kicking your ass and mostly succeeded, and where Quinn shot you in the back? _That_ house?"

Chuck rebutted: "Technically he was trying to shoot Sarah, and I jumped in front of the bullet."

Rolling his eyes, Morgan snarked, "Oh, that makes it much better."

"Morgan, I know it sounds crazy, but it's the first place I got through to her, the first place a memory of something we shared came back to her. It's her dream house from when she was young, she surely still remembers that. And it's the house she and I were dreaming of together just a few weeks ago. She had some memory of that return to her! With those connected memories of her childhood dream house and this real house as twin bookends, I think Sarah and I can work on restoring the volumes of her memory that sat in between. If Ellie doesn't have an answer for how to get Sarah's memories back, the house might be my best bet, my only hope, to help Sarah."

A switch seemingly flipped and Chuck's notion immediately made complete sense to Morgan. "Of course! Chuck, you're absolutely right. You've got to get that house. Uh, how are you getting the house?"

"We've got the money for it now that the Buy More is sold. I'm calling the realtor first thing in the morning and hoping to God the house is still for sale."

xXXXx


	2. Chapter 2

xXXXx

Chuck and Sarah stepped out of their apartment together. Sarah gladly took the hand offered by Chuck, weaving her fingers in among his, and the two turned towards Ellie and Devon's. Chuck had texted his sister a short while earlier to ask if he could pop over in the late morning, to which Ellie had responded, "Of course." She and Devon would be around, packing for their upcoming move to Chicago. His phone buzzed in his pocket at that moment; he pulled it out and looked at the sender. His cellular carrier with an offer. _No thanks._ He put the phone back in his pocket.

Chuck had refrained from mentioning to Ellie that Sarah was home or that she would be coming with him. Chuck had worried that his sister would bombard him with a million questions, or, more likely come straight over, and he wanted to let Sarah prepare herself and to determine the time at which she'd step into the Ellie whirlwind that was sure to come.

After only a few steps Chuck sensed through his grip on Sarah's hand that she was slowing. He glanced sideways at her and what he saw on her face grabbed at him, twisting his body such that he caught one foot's toe on the other's heel and nearly tripped himself. Stopping and catching himself, he asked Sarah, "Are you alright?" Nervousness was painted all over her face and present in her body language. He could not recall the last time he had seen her appear so timid, so… scared. "Sarah?"

"Chuck, what do I say to her? I threatened her life, pointed a gun at her, and didn't give it a second thought -like it was the next thing to do right after 'pick up the dry cleaning' on a list of errands. I sat with her in Castle afterwards and said nothing to her about it. No acknowledgment, no apology, nothing. She's like a sister to me and I did _that_ to her."

"Remember, we're married. She is your sister," Chuck said gently, intending to reassure Sarah.

"Yes, Chuck, but there are sisters-in-law and then there are sisters. And since the beach I've known how fully she embraced me as her sister and how unbelievably valuable that is to me." Sarah's lips tightened as she struggled to keep her emotions from overtaking her.

"Right, and that has not changed. She knows that wasn't you sitting across from her that day and threatening her life. It was Quinn. He messed with your head and manipulated you. She still loves you and surely has forgiven you. I know my sister; I have no doubt. None."

Sarah's eyes were glossed with wetness. Her expression softened and the start of a smile lifted the corners of her mouth. "Ok, Chuck, if you say so," she said. Chuck thought her confidence was returning, or perhaps she was trying to not lose her nerve, as she pulled at his hand to get them moving again.

~oOo~

Sarah released Chuck's hand as he knocked on the door. It opened and Ellie stood there. Chuck could see Devon in the back over his sister's shoulder, wrangling a packed moving box, and Clara in a bouncing chair. "Hi, Chuck," Ellie said. "I was planning on checking on you before you asked to come over. How are you?"

Chuck glanced to his side where he expected Sarah to be and realized she had sidled away a couple of steps putting her out of view of his sister. _She's still nervous._ He quickly looked back at Ellie and blurted, "I'm good!" Ellie appeared unconvinced.

"I'm so sorry we couldn't do anything for Sarah. I mean, without the Intersect to upload with…" Ellie took a deep breath, slowly letting it out while she shook her head. "Even if we had it, I've had more time to think about my plan and I have my doubts now that it even would have worked. Oh, little brother, I feel awful. I got your hopes up. How can I make this better? What can I do?"

"Well, I'm doing much better this morning than I was yesterday," Chuck said. "I, uh, did run into someone who wanted to see you before you all left for Chicago." Chuck turned to Sarah, leaned and put his hand into the small of her back and gently drew her to his side, into view.

"Sarah?" Ellie's eyes darted between Sarah and Chuck several times. Devon had taken note of what was happening, caught a glimpse of Sarah, and his mouth fell open. Ellie's stare settled on Sarah. "I didn't think we'd see you again… so soon." The last bit Ellie tacked on, somewhat clumsily. Looking back and forth again between her brother and her sister-in-law, Ellie asked, "What's going on?"

Chuck inhaled as he prepared to answer, but Sarah took the question. "Ellie, your brother found me. I guess it was harder for me to leave than I thought, and he found me as I was struggling with what I should do. He and I talked for a while and then," Sarah glanced at Chuck with a small smile, "and then he _found_ me. I rememb… sorry, that's not the right word, I feel things. I seem to feel everything from the last five years. Even though I can't remember the moments I've shared with people, the history I have with them, every emotion for family, friends, acquaintances are there for me."

Ellie's eyes narrowed and part of her seemed to be in deep thought, turning something over in her head. "That's amazing, Sarah. No memories, but every emotion. So, right now, with me, you… feel… what we have?" Chuck could hear and sense the hope in his sister's question.

Chuck's hand had not left Sarah's back and he could now feel her trembling. Sarah spoke, "Ellie, yes, I can feel how close we are, how grateful I am to have you in my life and for you letting me be part of yours. How I love you as my sister." Sarah's chest heaved, her eyes closed and she bent slightly at the waist. Chuck whirled from her side to bring his other hand around in case he needed to catch her. Devon, who had been holding the packing box the whole time dropped it and took a quick step around it and towards them. But Sarah caught herself and straightened. "Sorry. My sense is I have only a few friends. And precious few close friends. My whole being is telling me not to lose you, Ellie. It would devastate me. But I know what I did to you at that outdoor café, the threat I made. Oh, God. Ellie, I'm so sorry."

Ellie was shaking her head vigorously. "Not friends, not just friends, Sarah. We're family. And if your feelings are back, I think you may appreciate how important family is to me and how protective I am about my family." With a broad smile, Ellie added, "And let's not forget I deliberately crashed a car with you in it, so let's call it even."

Sarah snorted out a laugh and smiled back. "Ok. Even."

Ellie did a small shuffle dance with her feet. "Come here, both of you! Eeee!" His sister's squeal startled Chuck and before he recovered he found that he and Sarah were wrapped in a fierce hug from Ellie. Sarah returned the hug and was crying; Ellie, too, was crying. Chuck, enveloped by their hugs and their joy, looked over his sister's head to Devon, who looked back and silently mouthed, "Awesome."

"Boys." Ellie's voice was now commanding. "Could you let Sarah and me have some time to speak? I think she and I need to delve into what happened and what she experienced. Alone."

Chuck nodded and Devon said, "Sure, Babe." Devon went over to Clara and scooped her from the chair, then strode to the doorway to join Chuck.

~oOo~

Chuck and Devon sat on the fountain's edge and Chuck recounted in more detail for Devon the events of the day before, starting with Chuck's conversation with Morgan that occurred sitting at the same spot and ending with the drive back from the beach. (Chuck did not allude to what happened once he and Sarah were back in their apartment.) Chuck asked if he could hold Clara, and Devon gladly handed her over. A bright, toothy smile broke across Devon's face as he watched Chuck make silly faces that delighted Clara. "It's good to have the old Chuck back," Devon said. Chuck glanced at Devon and simply smiled, then looked back at Clara with yet another silly face to entertain her.

After a moment, Chuck switched from the parade of goofy expressions to bouncing Clara on his knee and asked, "What do you think happened to Sarah's memories? What do you think are her chances of getting them back?"

Devon let out a long breath. "Chuck, I don't know. Measured against the general public, I'm a smart guy. And when I'm in the operating room what my hands are able to do is, well, awesome, if I do say so myself. But when it comes to understanding the inner workings of the mind and how it might interact with the Intersect, that, Chuck, is your sister's turf. Ellie is on a different plane than the rest of us when it comes to that stuff. The good news is if someone can figure out what might have happened, theorize how to fix it, it's Ellie."

Both men fell quiet for several moments, listening to the gurgles coming from Clara and from the fountain behind them. At one point Chuck thought he faintly heard another one of his sister's squeals of delight. _Oh boy, are they talking about me?_ At another point his phone buzzed and he cradled Clara so he could look at its screen. Fernando, one of the green shirts from the Buy More, asking for job leads. Still not the message he was hoping for. _I'll have to get back to him later._ He put it away and resumed bouncing Clara.

Devon cleared his throat. "So, Chuck, you and Sarah got back to your place last night, and you said she had all her feelings back. Knows that she loves you and wants to be with you. You two had a meeting of minds on how you feel about each other. Was there, um, a meeting of any other parts last night?" Chuck at the last moment had sensed where Devon was going with the conversation, but Chuck was nonetheless unbalanced by the roundabout question and his knee halted momentarily, throwing Clara's bounces out of rhythm. Chuck could not bring himself to look at Devon, but he could feel the color rising in his neck and cheeks. "Hey, Chuck, sorry, wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable, but looks like I got my answer. That happening, that's a good thing, right? Dispels all doubt." Chuck did not answer right away. "Was there a problem?" Devon asked.

Chuck kept his gaze on Clara, and found it easier to answer Devon's question by speaking to her. "It was good. Great. And there wasn't a problem for Sarah. She seems completely sure of her feelings for me, about being with me. For me, I dunno, maybe I was feeling awkward afterwards. She's in love with a stranger. Some parts of her mind recognize me as the man she loves; other parts have no idea who I am. I worry that it's maddening for her; it's certainly maddening for me. I think until Sarah gets her memories back or, if that's not possible, gets to know me again, I'll feel better if we reset on the, uh, physical intimacy and take it slow."

Devon nodded and said, smiling, "Chuck, you're a gentleman, perhaps to a fault. But you took it slow -awfully slow- the first time and that worked out." Both Devon and Chuck smirked at that. It seemed Clara did, too. "And if Sarah knows how she felt about you before, however you go about it now, you two will eventually be fine."

Chuck barked a laugh. "Morgan said basically the same thing."

"Well, you should listen to him. When it comes to you and Sarah, that guy..."

"Yeah, I know," Chuck interjected.

Morgan's apartment door swung open and he stepped outside. "Hey, guys!" Morgan strode over to join Chuck and Devon and stood before them. He gave Clara, who craned her neck to look at him, a finger wiggle wave. "Captain," he said (to which Devon returned a crooked smile), "Did our boy tell you what happened? Who's here?" Panic seemed to grip Morgan suddenly and he quickly asked Chuck, "She's still here, right?"

"Yes, Morgan, she's still here. And, yes, I told Devon. Sarah's talking with Ellie right now."

"Oh, good," Morgan sighed.

"Is Alex around?" Chuck asked.

"Nah, she had to leave early for work. I gave her a quick rundown on what you told me, and she wanted to see you two but didn't want to intrude. She'll come back over as soon as she can."

Chuck was about to respond when Ellie stepped through her doorway and called, "Hey, boys. Oh, hello, Morgan. Why don't you come back in now. You, too, Morgan. We've got things to discuss." The three men did not need to be asked a second time and were nearly to the door by the time Ellie had finished speaking.

~oOo~

"So memories are stored in the median temporal lobe, but emotions are centered in the eh-mig… what did you call it?"

"The amygdala," Ellie replied to Chuck.

Sarah added, "And Ellie thinks the separate regions for emotions and memories may in part explain why I've been able to recover the feelings that had formed during the past five years while my memories of that time still elude me."

The three were sitting at the dinner table, with Ellie at the head and Chuck and Sarah sitting on the sides across from each other. Devon stood near Ellie holding Clara against his shoulder while Morgan leaned against the wall behind Sarah.

"Chuck, I've been thinking about Dad's Intersect notes, my additional research on it, and the tests we ran on Morgan after he had the corrupted version. The Intersect is able to graft images into the subject's mind almost as though they are the subject's own visual memories and alter the subject's memory recall abilities so he, or she, experiences eidetic memory recall -photographic visualization- of those images if exposed to the correct stimuli. The Intersect does not seem to directly add to or alter emotional content in the subject's mind. Any sort of emotional response you had to flashes, Chuck, was simply your own nature reacting to what images the Intersect supplied you; the emotional responses were not augmented by the Intersect. The deleterious side effect of the corrupted Intersect that Morgan and then Sarah had, as best as I can figure at the moment, is a disruption of their ability to recall their own memories. Where the versions you had, modulated by Dad's governor, left your ability to recall your memories unaffected, the corrupted Intersect appears to contaminate those pathways -like cholesterol slowly building up on a blood vessel wall- adding more and more with each successive flash until the pathways are effectively clogged. That tangentially affects the subject's emotions…"

Morgan interrupted, "Why I became so douchey?"

Ellie sighed and looked at Morgan, "Yes, why you became more douchey."

"More?" Morgan asked quietly. Ellie smiled at Morgan to let him in on her teasing.

"But as we're seeing with Sarah, the 'blockage' on emotions caused by the corrupted Intersect is weaker, more susceptible to being overwhelmed with strong enough stimuli, as the Intersect was never designed to deliver emotional content or interact with that part of the brain."

"Ok," Chuck said, "What I'm hearing is that you believe Sarah's memories are blocked. Not lost, just that Sarah cannot get to her old memories. I mean, they _have to_ be there, right? When she rearranged the cup stacks at the Berlin Weinerlicious it wasn't because she had recently run into Scooter and reminisced about shop inventory controls. Or her remembering Irene Demova to save General Beckman from Quinn's bomb, that had to be Sarah remembering that from our first evening together when we saved General Stanfield and a banquet hall full of people from being blown up." Chuck's eyes drifted from Ellie to Sarah and he looked wonderingly at Sarah. "The evening when I was sure I had lucked into a date with the most stunning, bewitching woman I had ever met." Sarah slightly blushed at those words. Morgan let out an "Ah."

"Who is Scooter? Irene?" Asked Ellie.

Chuck's gaze stayed on Sarah. "Scooter was Sarah's manager at the Burbank Weinerlicious. Irene Demova is a porn star and the namesake of an old computer virus."

At that, Ellie's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, Irene Demova," sighed Morgan. That was met with a disapproving glare from Ellie. Chuck had not taken his eyes off Sarah as he answered Ellie, watching Sarah for a reaction. She smiled, seemed slightly amused, but her eyes were asking questions, not announcing recollection.

Ellie asked Sarah, "Is that right, Sarah, both the Weinerlicious task and the, um, porn virus came back to you?" Sarah's head partly turned towards Ellie, but she was looking sidelong at Chuck, aware that he was staring intently at her, as she began to answer. "Yes, and no. I started reordering the cup stacks without thought about what I was doing. Chuck recognized it; I didn't. I couldn't put my finger on why I knew what to do with the cups. Still can't. For the computer virus, the name seemed to spring into my mind when I saw the old laptop computer controlling the bomb."

"A Prism Express," said Chuck. Again he studied Sarah. Nothing.

"But nothing else," Sarah continued, "nothing more about that first night with Chuck when I apparently learned of the computer virus."

Ellie was silent for a while, her eyes unfocused as she mulled this latest information. Everyone waited quietly. She finally spoke. "Interesting, both procedural memories and reportorial memories came back to you. Admittedly only fragments, lacking their context, but still that's encouraging."

Chuck fished in the cargo pocket of the shorts he was wearing, pulled out a clamshell case, and placed it on the table. "Will this help?" He asked. Everyone's eyes were on the case as he opened it to reveal the Intersect suppression device inside. "General Beckman left this with me in case I no longer wanted the Intersect in my head." He removed it from its case and turned it over and over in his hands. "Maybe I should ask, 'Will this hurt?' If Sarah tries suppressing the Intersect, which she may no longer have, could the attempt harm her?"

"Sarah recounted your conversation about her experiences since Quinn took her, she and I talked about it, too, and I agree, I don't believe she still has the Intersect. As for the contamination it left behind, I don't think the suppression device will help -it wasn't designed to remove the contamination because the contamination wasn't supposed to be there. The bug in the corrupted Intersect is responsible for that. But I also don't think attempting it will harm Sarah. There's no guarantees with any of this, but I'm fairly confident about that."

Chuck looked at Sarah. She gave him a nod and held out her hand. "Here is the activation button. Press that once you are wearing it," Chuck said. He handed her the device and she slid them over her eyes, then pressed the button. Chuck's hands balled into fists. He did not believe it would work, but he hoped, he prayed, nonetheless. _Please. Please. Please._

After several moments Sarah slowly removed the device, the sequence apparently done, and handed it back to Chuck. He accepted, placed it in its case, and looked into her eyes. She frowned and shook her head. "I don't feel any different."

"Well, we should test it," Ellie said. "Sarah, do you remember…"

"Wait, Ellie." Sarah cut in. "Chuck and I spoke a lot on the beach yesterday. He told me so much of our story."

"Gotcha. Chuck, how about you ask a question? Something that Sarah would not have learned in these last couple of weeks, something you didn't tell her, but would be something she'd certainly know and remember if her memories were intact."

"Sure," Chuck said. "Hmmm, oh, I got it. Sarah, who officiated our wedding?" Morgan, still leaning against the wall behind Sarah levered his body to move off it and leaned slightly towards Sarah. Chuck fought the urge to look at his friend, but he could tell from his peripheral vision that Morgan was staring intensely at Sarah as though he was trying to transmit the answer from his head to hers.

Sarah closed her eyes. She pressed her lips together. A moment passed. Another. Her eyes opened, and they were moist. Chuck could see the sadness in them. "I don't know."

"Ah, man," whined Morgan, "I thought you said she remembered, Chuck."

"Sorry, buddy," Chuck said flatly, yet anger roared in him like rapids after a storm. He looked at the suppression device in its case and he fought back the urge to smash it, punish it for having anything to do with the Intersect. The damn Intersect. (_But it brought Sarah to you in the first place._) _And it took her from me!_ (_But she's back now._) _Yes, but how is it fair that Quinn wins, stealing from Sarah five years of the amazing women she was, of remembering how we both grew together and found our love? _She had said on the beach "I'm not leaving," and he believed her. Still, if she could have her memories back, that would be justice. She deserved to have her memories back, and he desperately wanted those memories for her, the good and the bad. _Yes, even Prague._ And if ultimately her memories could not be unearthed, then the two of them would rebuild their life. They had their love, that was certain. But he was not ready to give up trying.

Sarah had turned her head to look over her shoulder at Morgan and had missed the pall that had blanketed Chuck's face. "Morgan, are you a minister or something?" She asked.

"According to the Intergalactic Federation of Planets, I am. I also was your limo driver."

"Did you cater it, too?" Sarah asked facetiously, her smile tinged by the sadness that lingered in her eyes.

"Nah. If I had, there definitely would have been pigs-n-blankets."

Sarah turned back to Chuck. He tried to hide his anger and frustration, but it was clear she saw. She reached her hand across the table and worked her fingers into his hand to open it -his hands were balled fists again- to take it into hers. Again she interlaced her fingers with his, forming a small bridge on the table between them. Sarah seemed to sense the question that Chuck couldn't voice. She asked, "Ellie, is there anything else we can try? Anything?"

"Well, every indication is that your memories are still with you, intact, and the pathways to them are, too, just impassable right now, or nearly so. A strong stimulus -my brother's kiss- was the solution for regaining access to your emotions. Some other strong, significant stimulus might do the same for your memories. What that might be is anybody's guess. And I have to stress 'might;' the right stimulus for your memories might be elusive, if indeed there is one."

_Buzz._ Chuck, on auto-pilot, woodenly pulled his phone out and looked. The message from the realtor read: Good news, the house is still on the market.

_Yes!_ Maybe this was a sign.

xXXXx

A/N: If you are wondering, the realtor had arrived at work in the morning a little late. After working through some messages and follow ups she had from the day prior, she listened to a voicemail from Charles Bartowski, who was speaking rapidly - something about only having a couple minutes while his wife showered. Sure, the realtor had been peeved after previously loaning the house to this Charles Bartowski and his wife for a test drive only to learn afterwards that they had carved up some of the wood molding. The voicemail jogged the realtor's memory that Mr. Bartowski had promised to pay for the repair and the realtor had said she'd talk to the absent owners to make arrangements. But the realtor now realized that she had become preoccupied with pricier properties that promised larger commissions and simply forgot to follow up, so the repair work had gone undone. Now, as far as the realtor was concerned, Mr. Bartowski's call was a godsend. Barely more than two weeks ago there had been a burglary at the house, which seemed strange given that the house had been vacant for some time. Stranger still that apparently there had been shots fired. None of this boded well for selling the house. And when she had last spoken with the owners they indicated that getting details from the authorities about the break-in was proving surprising difficult, as though it was being swept under the rug. That didn't really matter to the realtor this morning, what mattered now was Mr. Bartowski's message asking about the house's availability, and, if the realtor was reading it correctly (and she usually did), that he seemed like a motivated buyer. She entered the cellular number he said she could text and sent him a message.

A/N2: For this chapter, I cribbed from WillieGarvin and Zettel to weave some relevant lingo into Ellie's description of the Intersect and Sarah's experience with the corrupted version. Any bad science is my fault, not theirs. (Hey, it's "Chuck.")


	3. Chapter 3

xXXXx

"Chuck, I'm not leaving you. I'm not going anywhere, you know that, yes?"

"I do, Sarah, I don't doubt that. Honestly, I don't."

"Good," Sarah sighed, relief evident in her voice. The two of them were back in their Echo Park apartment, having excused themselves shortly after the suppression device attempt, with a promise to catch up further with everyone later. "What is it then? I could feel your anguish at Ellie's. I think even Morgan picked up on it."

Chuck attempted a smile at that, but it faltered. He took a couple breaths; she waited. "I failed you, Sarah."

Her voice full of disbelief, Sarah asked softly, "How did you fail me, Chuck?"

"I didn't protect you from Quinn."

"Chuck, that's sil…"

"I'm your husband!" Chuck said that louder than he intended; his next words were gentle. "I know its old fashioned, and if we did an accounting I am sure the ledger would show you've saved me more times than I could hope to save you in a lifetime, but I'm your husband and I'm supposed to protect you, especially when you're vulnerable."

"Chuck, I do remember who I was before coming to Burbank, and I am not without the means to protect myself."

"I know. But, Quinn..." Chuck's head was slowly shaking, his eyes unfocused, as he ground that name between his teeth. "I let him take you and escape. You were hurting and I couldn't help you or stop him. Yet, and God only knows what you had to endure, you were able to send me a distress signal. But then I was too late."

"Chuck, I don't remember what happened with Quinn before he showed up pretending to be my handler -maybe that's a mercy- but I don't doubt that you tried everything possible to find me, to save me from him. And I'm here, standing here with you, because you did save me. You saved me when you took the bullet that Quinn meant for me, and you saved me when I was lost on that stretch of beach."

Chuck was still angry with himself, but Sarah's words helped to temper that anger. "He may be dead, but I cannot shake the feeling that Quinn has won and I let him win because I took the last pristine Intersect. What if the Intersect could have given you your memories back? What if Ellie's plan could have worked?"

"You took the Intersect to save the lives of hundreds. That's the Chuck my heart knows. You put those people's well-being first, and spared their loved ones from having to grieve, at the cost of your own happiness."

"Maybe there was another way," Chuck's voice trailed off.

"Chuck, there was no time. Anyways, you heard your sister. She doubts, seriously doubts, her plan to use the Intersect to give me back my memories would have worked as intended. When she and I were alone, we spoke some about it. She now thinks in all likelihood the attempt would have left me feeling disjointed, disconnected. Instead of genuine memories, they would have felt -how did she put it?- like looking at a bad Xerox copy of a bad Xerox copy. I would have understood what I saw, but the images of memories would not have felt innate, and I might have ultimately found it unpleasant, maybe even heartbreaking, to bear. I think we just have to accept that my memories might not come back. And so long as we're together, I'm ok with that. Really."

Sarah finished with a smile and took both of Chuck's hands in hers. Chuck could not look at her, but Sarah pulled him in closer and leaned to peer at him until he could not help but to look into her eyes. Chuck spoke, "I told you on that roof after you... dealt... with Quinn and I took the Intersect for myself that I couldn't get your memories back…"

Sarah cut in, "And you also said you couldn't get me back, but I'm here, with you." Chuck looked deeper into Sarah's eyes, no longer shying from them. The look she gave him was so warm, so full of love, so unwavering. It was clear her emotions for him were intact, complete... and powerful.

Chuck in that instant replayed in his head the last moments in his sister's apartment when he and Sarah were heading for the door: Devon and Morgan each wanted a moment with Sarah to greet her directly and give her a hug, which she gladly returned to both of them. While Morgan proceeded to bombard Sarah with a rapid series of questions, which he did without pause thus foreclosing any chance of Sarah answering, Ellie came over to Chuck. Embracing him, she said quietly to him alone, "Do you remember what I said to you the other morning in your room? I said, 'You can't force Sarah to remember, but emotions, feelings are powerful things.' You've already seen that. Quinn's wickedness could not keep Sarah's feeling for you, for any of us, buried. Don't give up hope, little brother, she may regain her memories still. It may just be a matter of finding something emotionally powerful, immersing Sarah in it, and then giving it time to work."

"Chuck?"

Chuck snapped back. "Sorry, I was thinking about something Ellie said to me."

"That's ok. I just want to make sure you know you have me back. I may only remember being a spy and my time before that, but I know I love you."

"I do. And if we have to start from there and write a new story together, I will nonetheless consider myself the luckiest man in the world. But, _what if _you could have your memories back. I want to at least try. You deserve me trying."

"Chuck, I remember the person I was before I met you and I'm certain I have, right now, so much more than I deserve."

"No, Sarah, you're wrong. That's why it's important to me to try to get your memories back. I want you to remember every time you did something amazing, something wonderful to make this old Buy More Nerd count his lucky stars that you let him into your life. So that you can remember our first date, our first dance, our first kiss. So you can remember my father and how you found him for me so that I could make Ellie's wedding wish come true. And so you can remember..." Chuck paused as a tremble wound itself through him. "So you can rememb…" A mutiny by his windpipe cut off his words and Chuck found that he was on the verge of losing control over his emotions. He gulped air, settled himself. "And so you can remember when I asked you if you love me, and you, for the first time, said, 'Yes,' making me happier than I ever _dreamed_ possible." A slight smile played across Chuck's face as he recalled the juxtaposition of that moment: him looking ridiculous sitting in his underwear and clutching a plastic game-controller guitar while asking the most crucial question of his life. He took a deep breath and continued, "I know if we succeed it will mean you remember the times I disappointed you, when I made foolish decisions or failed to explain myself adequately and in doing so hurt you. You should know all of that, too. The good, the bad, it is all part of our story. It's a wonderful story and you should have it all, vivid and genuine, not the poor Xerox copy I can tell you. It all adds up to why you deserve every ounce of happiness I hope our life together brings you."

Somewhere along the way Sarah had begun to cry and laid her head against Chuck's chest. "Thank you, Chuck. Whatever happens, thank you."

Chuck wrapped his arms around Sarah and spoke softly into her ear. "I love you. And if you can bear with me, I have an idea -maybe a crazy idea- how we might be able to get your memories back."

~oOo~

Chuck and Sarah stood in front of the door. "Ready to go in?" He asked after a moment. Sarah nodded and inserted the key, unlocked the door, and opened it.

Chuck peered in and was struck by how much the place looked the same as he remembered it; Sarah's suite, or what had been her hotel suite at one time, and then made up again to be her place by Quinn. It still had the same excess of green, the same garish wallpaper.

Chuck had told Sarah his idea about the house earlier in the day and had been prepared to argue his case for it, anticipating that Sarah might be reluctant to return there, but she surprised him, and agreed with little hesitation. She said she was willing to try, wanted to try, even if it was a long shot, for both of their sakes. He suspected she was agreeing more for his than hers. After the two had finished a call with the realtor to put the house purchase plan into motion, Sarah had told Chuck she needed to retrieve a couple things from the long-term hotel she had been in the last few weeks. And they needed to retrieve her car, which was still at the beach from the day prior. They had her car and now were at her place.

_Look at this. Quinn put her up in the same place. He was meticulous, I will grant him that._ Chuck turned to look at Sarah as she was placing her car keychain that held the door key into a pocket. He wondered if returning here might trigger any memories, or at least a hint of a memory like the precious few Sarah had experienced so far. _Maybe an image of a veggie pizza, no olives, will come to her? Or a burger cut in half and shared? Or a salmon colored dress that practically left me weak in the knees? _Reading her face he did not see any sign that being here was conjuring anything for her. _Damn._

As they moved into the suite Chuck's attention shifted to the particle board covering where the plate glass window should have been. "So that's where...?"

"That's where I dangled Quinn by his neck," Sarah said, somewhat flatly, before adding with an edge, "I should have let him drop."

Chuck thought it best to move the conversation. "Should I start gathering up anything, maybe the clothes out of the closet?"

"No, Quinn put all of that here. I don't want any of it." Sarah moved to the long dresser and vanity.

The flashing message light on the answering machine caught Chuck's eye. "You have messages."

"I'm sure it's just more from the building management pleading to schedule time to repair the window. After we leave I'll let them know I'm out and the place is theirs again."

Sarah closed the lid on a gray box sitting on the vanity and walked towards Chuck, one hand cupped in front of her. "Can you help me with these?" As she and Chuck had been approaching the apartment building, Chuck thought that Sarah appeared disquieted, but now her smile returned as she revealed what she held in her hand: her engagement ring and wedding band.

Chuck returned the smile. He thought back to the moment earlier while they dressed when he realized she wasn't wearing them and dread had set in thinking what might have happened to them (_had she slipped them from her finger at some point and tossed them out like refuse, without another thought?_). He had not said anything. So when he had asked on the ride what she wanted to retrieve and she had told him her rings, he was sure his relief had been painted on his face.

"It would be my pleasure." He gently plucked the rings, one at a time and with reverence, from her palm. Taking his eyes off hers only for a fleeting moment to ensure he had lined up the engagement ring properly with her finger (his hand was shaking slightly), he slid it on. He did the same with the band. Sarah was now beaming and moved in close. Chuck picked up on her intent and leaned in for a kiss that Sarah eagerly met. _You may now kiss the bride._

After a long moment, Chuck reluctantly removed his lips from Sarah's. "You said you needed to pick up 'a couple things.' Now that you have them, do you want to go?"

"Actually, the rings were one thing, the other is over there." Chuck followed the point of Sarah's index finger.

"The DVD player?"

"What's in it."

Sarah arched her brow and tipped her head towards the player. Chuck -his curiosity piqued- followed her cue, moved to it and opened its tray. The disc in it was white, plainly labelled with "Project Bartowski Mission Log."

_Mission log?_

~oOo~

Chuck hit the call button for the number in his iPhone's contacts. He had the phone in his car's cup holder on speaker mode. As it rang he tried his best to keep up with Sarah in her car (no easy feat). The other phone continued to ring until the synthetic voice of its voicemail system chimed in and informed Chuck that the inbox associated with this number was full, and then it disconnected. It was the same outcome as his earlier attempts.

His mind drifted back to Sarah's suite.

_"What is this?" _

_"I must have been instructed by the Agency to keep a video log. I probably did it for at least the early years while you say you were treated as an asset. The log would not have been filed with the Agency for review. It is... candid, so I am virtually certain of that. Rather, if something was to happen to me, it would likely be collected to become part of the record for whatever sort of investigation was done. Quinn got his hands on it somehow and used it to manipulate me into believing he was my handler."_

_"Candid? Quinn showed you this?"_

_"Yes, candid, but what Quinn showed me was only my initial entry. This disc has later entries from my first two years here. That night that I came and found you at the fountain before leaving to go after Quinn and told you I believed you, I had watched this. Please put it back in and hit play. I want you to see it."_

Chuck hit the call button on his iPhone in order to redial. The line once again began to ring.

_He sat on the edge of the bed next to Sarah, watching Video Sarah on the television. Within minutes he was transfixed, not moving a muscle or making a sound. He might have forgotten to take a few breaths. Eventually Video Sarah was saying, "...because, because I love him. I love Chuck Bartowski and I don't know what to do about it." _

_As Video Sarah blinked back tears Chuck was blinking back his own. "You had found this? Where? Did you take it from Castle?"_

_"Not I, it was..."_

Casey barked over the phone, "Bartowski, what is it?"

Chuck practically jumped in his car seat. "Casey! I'm so glad to finally get through to you! I've been trying your line. First, a couple times this morning from home. Now a couple more times from my car…"

"Chuck," growled Casey.

"Uh, right, I just wanted to let you know Sarah is here, she's with me, well not with me at this very moment. But she's back and she's staying. She wants to stay with me. She, well, she loves me." That last bit Chuck said with a mixture of joy and matter-of-factness. _Was that a sigh of relief, a grunt of relief, from Casey's end?_ Chuck couldn't quite make out what he heard.

"Her memories?"

"No," Chuck conceded. "But her feelings for me, for others, for you, they're all back. Uh, so, I wanted you to know that, but I also found out that I need to thank you."

"Why's that?"

"When Sarah returned to Echo Park before leaving again to go after Quinn she had told me she believed me, believed everything I had told her about the two of us. That was all thanks to you giving her the copy of her mission log. I actually don't know how to thank you. Casey, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want you getting all squishy with me because your lady-feelings got the better of you."

Chuck chuckled at that. "Well, thank you anyways."

"Don't mention it. Really." A moment of silence hung between them. "Chuck, you look after Walker. What she's been through… Take care of her."

That was an order from the Colonel that Chuck intended to do everything in his power to carry out. "I will, John," Chuck solemnly replied.

Casey's voice became, for him, mild. "Good partners are hard to come by. Walker was, well, she was…"

Chuck finished for Casey, "The best."

Casey's gruffness returned. "By a goddamn country mile… You weren't half bad yourself."

"Thanks."

"Yeah, well, later, Bartowski."

"Later, Casey. Good luck."

With a grunt, Casey ended the call and was gone. "Go get Gertrude," Chuck said to his friend, wherever he may be at that moment.

Chuck's phone rang and he thought it might be Sarah calling to tell him to catch up. He looked at the caller ID. It wasn't Sarah; it was the realtor.

xXXXx


	4. Chapter 4

xXXXx

_~Two Weeks and One Quick, All Cash Real Estate Closing Later~_

Chuck was standing at the carved entryway frame and holding in both hands a three-ring, white binder. He contemplated the carving, the night it was made, and the last few weeks. It was quiet and he was, for the moment, alone while Sarah was in the bedroom putting items away in their new places. Yesterday, when he and Sarah had started to move in and before the unpacking began in earnest, the two of them had stood in this same spot together and stared at their carved names. Sarah remembered the night after Ellie had deliberately crashed her car and Chuck had brought Sarah to the house unconscious. She remembered the recognition that had surfaced in her mind that night, that she had been the one to carve her name in the frame. But, as she ran her fingers over the letters of her name and his, she had told Chuck that, as it was then, she could not picture the act in her mind. She still only had the same fuzzy awareness of it rather than a full memory she could recall.

Lost in those thoughts, he pressed the binder against his chest. The two of them had looked at the photographs it contained several times. (And each time, she found the pictures of him with his longer, wavy hair delightfully amusing.) He would tell her about the moments captured in them, sometimes phrasing his description more as a question to see if she could supply a detail he was leading up to. Nothing came back to her. Notwithstanding that Sarah was no further along in recovering her memory -she had not had another memory fragment return since the evening that old Team Bartowski, with the improbable help of Lester and Jeff, saved General Beckman- he still believed it was good fortune, an improbable break, that the frame had not been repaired. To Chuck it was both a sign and a fingerhold of hope. He lightly touched the rough cut "+" that linked their names and then ran his hand over the binder's blank, smooth cover. For good luck. _This house, the mark we made here, the stories I can tell her. _He looked down at the binder in his hands. _The pictures we have. I just need to keep her immersed in our story and hope that with her emotions, it all can act as a catalyst for breaking through to her memories._

~oOo~

~_Three Days Later_~

"Morgan, it was good seeing you. I hope Alex isn't too upset you'll be getting back so late."

Chuck and Morgan stood at the front door as Morgan finished putting his light jacket on and shouldered his messenger style bag.

"Dude, it was an emergency, I had to come. You've been in the house for three days and you still hadn't set up your home entertainment system or your gaming hardware? You were at serious risk of losing your nerd cred."

"Heh, I hear you buddy, thanks for saving me from that awful fate."

"Anytime, Chuck. Anyways, we would have been done a lot quicker if I hadn't suggested we take a break and watch a little 'Die Hard' before moving onto the gaming consoles. Like we could stop watching after Bruce welcomes Reggie VelJohnson to the party. What was I thinking?"

Chuck, smirking, nodded in agreement. "Well, now we're all set for future movie nights."

"Oh! Geez, that reminds me. I was going to do a big 'ta-da' moment after we tested the setup and give you something. Damn Bruce Willis and his Oscar worthy performance."

"Whatcha got?"

"Well, I started to do a bit of 'spring cleaning' the other day in preparation for me and Alex moving to a new place of our own and look what I found mixed in with my movies." Morgan reached into his bag and pulled out a disc in a clear clamshell case. His grin was wide as he waggled the case in his hand before handing it to Chuck. Chuck inspected it.

"Buddy, who wrote the label on the disc? Did they have a bad case of the shakes? it's practically illegi… oh, wait. Oh, wait! Is this...?"

Morgan was rocking from foot to foot with excitement. "Yep! Don't know how it ended up with me, but, of course, everything got crazy and scary that evening and who remembers what happened exactly. When I saw it mixed in with my tapes and DVDs I was sure you'd want it."

Chuck gazed at the disc that held the video montage of Sarah and him that Jeff (Jeff of all people!) had prepared for the wedding rehearsal dinner. Perhaps the only copy there was of it.

"Thanks, Morg! You know, I have very little video of Sarah and me. Just wasn't my thing. Heck, we didn't even have a videographer at the wedding." Chuck lowered his head to look at the disc and his voice softened as he became introspective. "I know Sarah and I have only been in the house a few days and I should give this whole search for her memories effort more time before I start to freak out, but I would be lying if I didn't admit that doubt is starting to creep in." Chuck paused, drew a deep breath and let it out while rubbing the back of his head with his palm. His stare returned to Morgan. "I keep hoping for a breakthrough for her memories like she had with her emotions. Each day we spend some time with me telling her about things we did, experiences we shared, over the past five years. Heck, I've got a binder where I collected most all of the pictures I have from that time of either of us or of family and friends and we've flipped through it numerous times. But nothing, she's had no new glimpses of her missing memories."

"Maybe you should have her kick your butt again. That worked here in the house once before."

Chuck smiled, appreciative of his friend's attempt to keep Chuck's mood from darkening. "Morgan, I'm getting desperate enough that I might just try it."

"Well, before that," Morgan reached over to tap the disc case in Chuck's hand, "Watch this with her. Hey, since I'm leaving, why not show it to her now?"

Chuck looked down at the disc for a long moment, "Nah, when she last checked on us she said she was tired and going to bed, that was a while ago. I'll play it for her and me tomorrow."

Morgan nodded. "It's beautiful. Better than I had remembered."

"You watched it?"

"Yeah. I was just planning on watching a minute or two, to make sure the disc was fine. Before I knew it, I had sat through the whole thing. Wow, I really have a problem not finishing a movie I've started. And Alex joined me when I was watching and she agreed it was beautiful. There might even have been some crying (by me). The point is, I have a really good feeling about this. And, Chuck, when have I steered you wrong?"

"Should I start with our elementary school days, or jump ahead to when we joined the Buy More, you know, to keep the list somewhat manageable?"

Morgan, who had begun taking a few steps outside along the front door path to depart, came to a stop and looked at Chuck. There was no sign that Morgan had anything but full confidence in what he was saying. "Magic kiss, bro. Who's idea was the magic kiss?"

Morgan turned and walked out to his car and got in. As Chuck closed the red door he thought to himself, _Maybe I'll just watch the first minute or two._

_~Sarah~_

Sarah awoke from her sleep. Her feet had reconnoitered the other side of the bed seeking a source of heat without success. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked at Chuck's side. Empty. She needed his feet for their warmth, but also she was yearning for him, even if it was just playing footsie under the sheets. On their second night together, which followed the night of exquisite passion when they had returned from the beach, Chuck asked her if they could ease back into the physical intimacy. She thought it was a little late for that, but she agreed. It had been quaint and sweet when he asked. Now it was edging towards agonizing.

Charles Irving Bartowski was a tall drink of water that she had only been able to sip for the last couple of weeks; she thirsted for a long swig. She could have pressed the matter at any point and he might have relented like that first night, but she had decided to go along with him on this. And the intimacy had been ramping up, but oh so slowly.

_So where is he? _She wondered if he could still be watching a movie with Morgan. She slipped out of bed, slipped into her robe and left the bedroom for Chuck's last known location: the den. Barefooted, she moved through the house barely raising a sound. There was the telltale glow and flicker of a television screen escaping from the den's entryway as she approached. She reached the opening and peered in. No Morgan, only Chuck on the sofa absorbed by what he was watching (which her angle did not let her easily see; she could hear music, but there was no dialog). He had not noticed her.

"Chuck, why don't you come to bed." Sarah had let the words waft out in a soothing and mildly suggestive tone; startled nonetheless, Chuck's enraptured gaze at the screen snapped. He raised the remote, stopping the video as he said, "Sarah, sorry. I meant to be there a little while ago, but I started watching this." He gestured towards the television with the hand holding the remote. His expression became slightly sheepish. "Actually, I'm on my third time through." Sarah was intrigued; Chuck seemed to pick up on Sarah's quizzical look. "It's not a movie. Well, it's a movie, but it's an amateur movie, a montage that Jeff put together. Of us. For our rehearsal dinner. Morgan found it and gave it to me as he was leaving tonight, and then I was just going to take a quick peek before coming to bed." Chuck shrugged a silent apology.

"'Jeff' as in Buy More Jeff? Should I be worried? From the few stories you've told me about him and my conflicted, uneasy feelings I have when I think of him..."

"No. Not at all. It's so wonderful. Crazy sounding, I know, but true. Morgan was pretty excited about it -once he remembered he had it. After his magic kiss theory, I think he's trying to find his next great idea for your memories. I love the little guy, but I'm trying to keep my expectations in check."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I'm starting to feel that I am being naïve, being overly optimistic about getting your memories back. And in doing so I worry I put undue pressure on you. I'm sorry for pushing you."

"Chuck, you're not pushing me. I love hearing you talk about us. I love looking at the photos of us, from goofy Halloween costumes to our wedding day finest." Chuck gave Sarah an appreciative, lopsided smile as she continued, "And this house, it's beautiful. My childhood dream house. So, since I'm awake -your fault by the way- and it's all set up, may we watch it now?" Chuck's smile broadened and he slid himself from the center of the sofa, inviting her over. Sarah joined him, nestled in close, and as she did the two leaned back with Chuck's arm around Sarah's shoulder and her head on his chest. With a couple button presses, Chuck had the video restarted from the beginning.

It _was_ wonderful, more so than Sarah would have guessed possible. There were some pieces clearly shot without her and Chuck aware that might have seemed odd or creepy in a different context, but all together it was beautiful, moving... powerful.

Sarah picked up on movement from Chuck. "Chuck, I can feel you shaking your head. What is it?"

"Oh, just thinking about how I foolishly pinned so much of my hope for you getting your memories back on this house. When I got the message from the realtor that the house was still available I was so excited. And when we closed on the purchase I really thought I'd been handed a gift...

(...thrum...)

"...and we'd make this place your home...

(...thrummm...)

"...and _of course_ your memories would come back. As you said, it's your childhood dream house. I know we've only just moved in and I should give it more time, but..."

"Chuck," Sarah had lifted her head and cut him off with a peck on his lips, "It's ok, let's just watch the movie. Could you start it again?"

She gave her head a quick shake before laying it back down on his chest. _What was that?_ As Chuck had been speaking Sarah thought something had... stirred in her. It was like a buzz in her ear, a vibration in her head. Sarah slid her hands around to Chuck's back and squeezed against him as tight as she thought she could without hurting him. Even though she did not remember the moments captured in the movie she could see the love and happiness, and at that instant she desperately wanted him to know, to feel, that they were inseparable. In doing so, she had pressed her ear firmly against Chuck's chest. She could hear his heartbeat and could feel her own. The video's images, what Chuck and she had been talking about, and the heartbeats all mingled in her mind. As the video showed flashes from their life together, Sarah was certain the heartbeats were moving towards each other, overlapping and meshing. One beat seemed to answer the other and then they synchronized, perfectly, becoming inextricable and indistinguishable from each other.

She thought again: _What was that? What had Chuck been saying?_ She attempted to replay Chuck's words from just a moment ago, yet it was not Chuck's voice that she heard in her head. Rather, it was her own, and its cadence joined that of the one, shared heartbeat.

(buh-dum) _A gift._

(buh-dum) _Your home._

(buh-dum) _A gift._

(buh-dum) _Your home._

(buh-dum) _A gift._

(buh-dum) _Your home._

_Chuck is a gift._

_Chuck is your home._

"Chuck. My home." Sarah spoke the words softly, not conscious she was saying them. Then she gasped as the floodgates once again opened. "Sweetie! Come with me!"

_~Chuck~_

Chuck though he had heard Sarah quietly say his name. He certainly heard her call him "Sweetie" given that she had nearly shouted it. _Sweetie? When had I last heard her call me that?_ She was on her feet and pulling his hand to get him to follow. He was up and his feet were keeping pace with Sarah's rapid strides, but her sudden animated excitement had him nonplussed. His head was still trying to catch up when Sarah came to a stop. She was standing before the carving of their names; Chuck found himself behind her, against her back. She spoke, vibrating with every word.

"We were standing together, pretty much like this. I'd just told you I had changed, that I didn't want to go back to being a spy. I had a knife from our picnic on the floor. You asked me what I was doing and I told you I was carving our names here because we would someday own this house, that one day it would be ours. I finished my name and handed you the knife. And I said to you?"

Sarah posed the question, but her voice was triumphant, asking with a tone that left no doubt whether she knew the answer. Chuck knew, too. He wrapped his arms around Sarah and kissed the top of her head, then lobbed her question back to her. "And you said?"

"I said when this house is ours one day that I would like to _always remember_ the moment we had our first night here."

Chuck's eyes closed and he slowly took in and let out a deep breath through parted lips. "And you remember, Sarah." Chuck took another deep, chest filling breath. "You're home."

_~Sarah~_

"...Your home." Sarah heard.

Sarah spun in Chuck's arms to face him._ My home. _"Chuck...Yes, I remember." The sensation that had come over her moments ago was not terrifying like what she had first experienced on the beach with the return of her feelings, but every bit as monumental. The deep, unequivocal emotions that had been with her since that day now found tens, hundreds, thousands of memories -the tiniest of moments and the grandest of events- to connect to and draw sense from. _Look at me, Chuck. I'm here. _Sarah had a vague awareness she was beaming at him.

_~Chuck~_

Chuck's eyes opened and they locked with Sarah's. She was smiling at him. _Oh. My. God._ That smile. _The_ smile. Sarah had stolen his heart a thousand times over with her smile, with her wondrous, mesmerizing smile. _But this one is... it is... it…_ Chuck's head was swirling, and in that moment a line from a beloved movie came to him in which the storyteller spoke of the five most pure kisses, since the invention of the kiss, all being left behind by the one then unfolding on the screen. But Chuck's storyteller was not speaking of kisses, he instead spoke of smiles. And the wise voice was announcing that this smile from the woman that Chuck loved and who loved him back was the most beautiful, most perfect smile in the history of smiles. That a truer declaration had ever been made was, to Chuck, inconceivable.

Sarah cupped the back of Chuck's neck with her hands. His eyes blinked rapidly as they filled with and then spilled tears. Rising up on her toes, she drew his cheek to hers; his joyful tears were joined by her own. Sarah's lips were close to his ear. She whispered, "You keep finding me, Chuck." Their cheeks parted as Sarah settled back on her feet. She let her hands slide forward to Chuck's face and gently wiped away their commingled tears with her thumbs. Her blue eyes were glistening and she was excited. "Sweetie, where's that binder?"

"Back in the den." Sarah strode back to the den with Chuck once again at her heels. She took a quick glance around the room, spied the binder, grabbed it and sat back down on the sofa. She was already flipping to the first page when Chuck plopped down beside her. With an eagerness and energy like a child excited to tell her parents about her first day at elementary school, Sarah began to speak quickly, chronicling everything she remembered about the events captured in the photos.

Sarah Bartowski was telling their story.

Most Chuck knew (of course), but throughout she surprised him with little details he had forgotten or never knew. He was unsure how much time had passed -maybe an hour, maybe two- when Sarah finished the last page and closed the binder. Chuck rolled his head. He felt light. A tension, a cloud, that had been lurking within his head for the past few weeks was gone. The corners of his mouth did however slightly ache; he realized he must have been grinning ear-to-ear the entire time that Sarah was recounting what she remembered. He turned back to Sarah with a broad smile on his face (it was a good ache, he did not mind), expecting to find her with the same, but instead she was drumming her fingers on the binder cover, staring at him through narrowed eyes, her mouth pinched.

"Uh, what is it?" Chuck asked hesitantly.

"I remembered something."

"You certainly did. Many, many things."

"No, I remembered something else, a different binder."

Chuck was confused. "Huh?"

"Tits? Really? Oh, I bet you and Morgan thought yourselves _so_ clever."

Chuck burst into laughter and as he did Sarah's exaggerated expression of disapproval slipped, the corners of her mouth turning up in a smile. "Well, huh," Chuck said, "Not a memory I thought this binder would stir up. As for the Tee, Eye and the rest, you have to remember, it was an acronym. It had little dots."

Chuck's laughter began again as Sarah playfully slapped his chest, but he swallowed the last of it as he realized she was now intently looking at him. He was spellbound by what he saw in her blue eyes -a decision had been made. "Do you remember our last happy moment before Quinn tried to come between us, Chuck? Because I do: We were sitting in bed together on the bullet train and you were drawing a picture, a picture of you and me in front of this house. But you didn't stop there. Do you remember how you finished that drawing?"

Chuck's pulse began to quicken. "I had drawn… a small bundle." _I drew us with a baby._

Sarah smirked at Chuck's cagey reply. "You drew us with a baby, and we both said 'someday.' Well, Chuck, my head is clear and my heart is sure, and they are both telling me 'someday' is today. We're together. We have the house. Let's finish that drawing."

Sarah continued to stare into Chuck's now wide eyes. After a moment she began scrunching and unscrunching her brow and squinting her eyes. Chuck had been both thrilled and struck dumb by what Sarah was saying. Now he was perplexed by what he saw. He regained his voice.

"Why are you making that face?"

"It's not supposed to be a 'face.' It's the Bartowski eyebrow dance." Sarah's expression was now a mixture of frustration and mirth.

"Oh, Honey, that needs work."

"How's this then?" Sarah lowered her chin, peered at Chuck through her eyelashes with an expression that was shimmering heat, passionate and intense. It promised -practically threatened- that marvelous bliss lay ahead. _Oh, boy! _Something… stirred for Chuck. There was definitely a stirring.

Sarah stood -Chuck's eyes following her every movement- and slowly stretched one arm towards him and beckoned with her index finger. Without a word, she turned on her heels and slowly walked towards the bedroom. Chuck noticed she did not look back. _She knows I will follow; she saw _my_ decision in _my_ eyes._ Chuck was grinning ear-to-ear again as he followed behind. Sarah reached the doorway of their bedroom and stopped, her hands to her back, open, fingers splayed. Chuck came up behind her and interlaced his fingers in hers. Sarah turned her head to look over her shoulder at him.

"If we have a daughter, Chuck, I would like her to take ballet."

They gently kissed and then entered the bedroom.

It was time to make new memories.

THE END

xXXXx

A/N: Thank you very much for reading and a special thanks to those who have left reviews and/or exchanged PMs with me. Writing the story is a satisfying experience, but the reaction from/interaction with readers has proven to be the biggest delight in doing this. So please do consider leaving a review, or dropping me a PM if you have not done so already (or even if you have).

A huge thank you to WillieGarvin for letting my tie my story to his story "Sarah vs the Kiss" (SvtK), for his enthusiastic support, for repeatedly reviewing drafts and for putting up with a deluge of PMs during my effort to write this. I originally started drafting this story because I thought I wanted to tell how my favorite fictional couple ended up in the red doored house, but the influence of SvtK led me to realize quickly that what mattered most to me was how, after getting her feelings back, the two got Sarah her memories back and the house just came along for the ride (in the story I wrote before this one, I had simply assumed she had her memories back). In the end, I felt the home that mattered most was the one Sarah had in Chuck (the "You're home" said/"Your home" heard in the story was not a typo :-) ).

Thanks to Zettel, who has stimulated my thinking about "Chuck" and beta'd parts of this story, helping to make those parts tighter.

Thanks to David Carner for his beta work on parts of this story and more generally for being so crazy generous with how much he gives to "Chuck" fanfic readers.

I attempted to stay faithful to the television show and to SvtK, so recalls of events or dialog that occurred prior to the time of my story can be found in the episodes (for example, the conversation Ellie had with Chuck in his bedroom in the series finale that Ellie reminds Chuck about in my story) or SvtK. Perhaps the most significant recall of show dialog being the "gift" and "home" that Sarah hears herself describing Chuck as. (Characters wouldn't necessarily have verbatim recollection of past conversations, so at times they may naturally paraphrase.)

The VelJohnson mention was a bit of realities collide fun. The actor appeared in an episode of "Chuck" and his character was a police officer with the same name as the character in "Die Hard" (Al Powell). That potentially means "Chuck" exists in a universe where the events of "Die Hard" were real, which, if that's the case, means the "Die Hard" that Chuck and Morgan were watching was some alternate universe "Die Hard." Uh, maybe? I'll let someone else figure that out.


End file.
